The baby, a tiny boy Claudia named Elliott William (after both of her grandfathers—the nice one got top billing over the overbearing one), was born six weeks earlier, and Dean had quietly arranged for the test to be done at a place where, if you have enough cash, you don’t have to provide the identity of the potential father, just a sample. He’d done it before, but in the past, there was a happy ending (for the guys in the band, anyway). Dean had begged Claudia not to add Zane’s name to the birth certificate and made promises that Zane would have to keep. So, she wroteunknown, even though she was certain. He was the only one. Zane’s one last dwindling hope was immaculate conception, but that had been snuffed out now like a candle in a flooding basement.
So, in the weeks leading up to this moment, Zane had gotten out ahead of the whole thing. He’d become the loving, attentive husband and doting father his family deserved. Instead of saying yes to every invitation or locking himself away in the studio until all hours of the night, only to stay in bed ‘til mid-afternoon, he woke with the kids to get them ready for school so Sienna could sleep in. He took her for leisurely lunches and went to bed with her at eleven. He had started playing Super Mario with Parker, swimming with Poppy in their pool, and writing songs with Ivy. They’d even had three family game nights in the last couple of months, at Zane’s suggestion. He set out bowls of potatochips and sour candies on the big wooden table in the kitchen. The kids argued the entire time, and he and Sienna gave each other a look that said, ‘Oh well, nothing’s perfect, but at least we’re trying.’
And all of that was paying off because Sienna was happier than she’d been in years. In fact, Zane would say she’d fallen back in love with him. They’d fallen back in love with each other. And it hadn’t been all that difficult to make it happen. It just took a little effort on his part. Being married wasn’t nearly as hard as he’d made it out to be all these years. It was easy, in fact, if you paid attention. If only he’d gotten his head out of his ass sooner. Like, eleven months ago. Then none of this would be happening.
His Motorola StarTAC cell phone rang. He took it out of the pocket of his low-slung jeans and flipped it open to see Dean’s number across the tiny screen. Not wanting to hear what he had to say, he almost flipped the phone shut again. But then he remembered Dean was his one and only ally. Pissing him off wasn’t exactly a good plan. “Hey Dean.”
“So? Where are we at?”
His phone was slippery against his clammy palm. “I haven’t done it yet. She was doing yoga when I got home from dropping off the kids, and I figured I’d let her finish.”
“Come on, Zane,” Dean said, leaving out the lecture he deserved.
“I know. I know,” he answered, his stomach roiling like a rowboat in a gale. “It’s just … so hard, knowing I’m about to destroy everything.”
“Yeah, well, when you got me involved in your little circus, I told you what the deal was.” Dean hadwarned him that day in June when Zane showed up at his loft, sick with guilt and panic. First, he called him a giant prick and told him he’d never been so disappointed in anyone. He knewwhat Zane got up to on tour, but this time, he had really done it. Because the mother of his new baby wasn’t some random fan. She was one of them. Dean promised to help keep things under wraps until the paternity test results came back, but if it was positive, all bets were off. “She deserves to know the truth. You know she does.”
Zane rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. Is it even the right thing to do? To hurt her like this? I mean, what she doesn’t know?—”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Zane. Don’t you dare start. I swear to God, I will out you to the world, then I’ll quit. Buy myself a little beach hut in some sleepy town in Mexico and forget I ever knew you.”
“Jesus, you’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this.”
“Which should give you some insight into how I feel about you right now.”
Zane swore under his breath. “You don’t have to say it. No one could hate me more than I hate myself right now.”
“It’s not a competition, Zane, but if it were, by the end of the day, you’d likely lose.”
“Thanks.”
“Tell her now. While she’ll still have a few hours to cry it out before the kids come home.”
Another wave of desperation came over him. He couldn’t do this. Not when she was so happy. Today could be a perfect day. He could sweep her into his arms and make love to her in the shower. Then he’d whip up a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of cut-up apricots and blueberries for her. She loved his grilled cheese sandwiches. They reminded them both of their first night together. He was already famous, and she was a runway model when they met at Keith Richards’ birthday party at Studio 54. They, along with the other people crammed onto the silvery bluecurved sofa, spent much of the evening placing bets on how many more birthdays Keith had left. Sienna had guessed an outrageous twenty-five while no one else dared to say a number over ten, and there was something about her optimism that struck him harder than her beauty. Zane had a wife back at home in California—Angela, a poet—but he couldn’t take his eyes off Sienna.
Before the night was over, he asked her to come home with him. She said yes, much to his delight. They tumbled into a cab and made out the entire way to the Park Avenue apartment the record company kept for their artists. When they got there, he decided to at least pretend he wanted to take it slow. Instead of tearing off her dress, he made them grilled cheese sandwiches. He burned the first two because he couldn’t stop staring at her. She laughed at him, but not in a mean way—in a way that showed she knew how absurd it was that she had grown up to be this beautiful and he’d grown up to be so famous and rich. No one was supposed to be that beautiful or that talented. They were freaks of nature, a fact that bound them together instantly. They sat side-by-side on the counter eating, her pulling off tiny bits and popping them in her mouth in a way that she knew was seductive, both of them anticipating what would come next. She was different than the other girls he’d been with. Different than Angela, who was a mere mortal. Angela was an old soul. She was insightful and kind. She had bad hair days and struggled to keep the pounds off. Sienna was exciting. New. She understood what it was like to be adored by strangers. Zane would be different with Sienna. Adoring. Loving.Faithful. And for a long time, he was. Right up until he wasn’t. “Can you come by maybe? And help me?”
“No, Zane. I wasn’t there when you got yourself into thismess, and I’m afraid that for once in your life, you’re going to have to clean it up yourself,” Dean answered.
His tone was neutral even though Zane knew Dean must want to shout at him. Zane had made his job infinitely harder. The remaining members of the band would be furious, disappointed, disgusted. They might get back on stage with Zane someday, but they wouldn’t be happy about it.
Not to mention the fact that Zane had been an asshole to his wife—a woman who had always treated Dean like a brother. And now, Zane was about to break her heart, and the hearts of their children too. And his adoring fans, who believed him to be a good guy. What a joke that was.
“Forget I asked,” Zane said, running a hand through his shoulder-length blond hair.
Dean let out a loud, frustrated sigh. “Tell you what. If things are really off the rails, I’ll come by around two. I can try to calm her down before the kids get home.”
“Sure, thanks. If she’s still here.”
“Phone if you need me.”
“Will do.” Zane ended the call and shut his eyes, wishing he could go back and do everything differently. Wishing he’d never driven to Claudia’s house that night. Wishing he hadn’t walked up her sidewalk or gone inside. Wishing he hadn’t put off the damn vasectomy after Poppy had been born and Sienna said their family was complete. But all those terrible things had happened, and now he was well and truly screwed.
When he opened his eyes, she was standing in front of him, on the other side of the glass, with a concerned expression. He flinched, then tried to smile, but his lips were too numb to manage the upturn. He hated himself at that moment more than he had ever hated anyone in his life. Here she was, as close to perfect as a human could be—loving, smart, and incredibly beautiful. Every bit as beautiful inside as out. She’d stayed so perfectly gorgeous while he’d gotten thick around the middle and had grown a beard to disguise the fact that his face had rounded. And yet, somehow, she still wanted him, even though he neglected her and screwed around on her. She knew he cheated. She must have known, even though they never talked about it. Somehow, she still loved him anyway, even though he was a selfish sack of shit through most of their marriage. But this would be the end. This was asking too much of her.
She slid the door open, and Billie bounced into the kitchen and right over to her water dish.
Tilting her head, Sienna said, “What’s wrong?”
